02-25-2013, 08:38 PM
(02-25-2013, 08:02 PM)Stalker Wrote: Blinkered by youth,
undefeatable optimism,
the feet have no nose.
I didn’t know
what was hidden
in the piles of leaves
I kicked.
Squinting to read,
unenviable vanity,
the hands have no eyes.
I can’t see
what I find,
moss in the bark
I touched.
I feel my way
through the branches and trunks,
the buds and the broken twigs.
The magician pulls time
from his hat
a masterful illusion
since the sun has no voice.
Look, if this is about stepping in dog shit I should advise you that I am a responsible dog owner. I always pick up.....it is my wife who thinks it is a good idea to booby-trap. She covers with moss and leaves....hurriedly.
I have no voice.
More will follow. May take some stinking about.
Best,
tectak
Hmmm not the poem I imagined - but the one that has arrived, UNINVITED.